sharp adze stuck up with a shining edge that
gleamed dangerously down there like a wicked smile. The men clung to one
another, peering. A sickening, sly lurch of the ship nearly sent them
overboard in a body. Belfast howled "Here goes!" and leaped down. Archie
followed cannily, catching at shelves that gave way with him, and eased
himself in a great crash of ripped wood. There was hardly room for
three men to move. And in the sunshiny blue square of the door, the
boatswain's face, bearded and dark, Wamibo's face, wild and pale, hung
over--watching.

Together they shouted: "Jimmy! Jim!" From above the boatswain
contributed a deep growl: "You. Wait!" In a pause, Belfast entreated:
"Jimmy, darlin', are ye aloive?" The boatswain said: "Again! All
together, boys!" All yelled excitedly. Wamibo made noises resembling
loud barks. Belfast drummed on the side of the bulkhead with a piece of
iron. All ceased suddenly. The sound of screaming and hammering went
on thin and distinct--like a solo after a chorus. He was alive. He was
screaming and knocking below us with the hurry of a man prematurely
shut up in a coffin. We went to work. We attacked with desperation the
abominable heap of things heavy, of things sharp, of things clumsy to
handle. The boatswain crawled away to find somewhere a flying end of
a rope; and Wamibo, held back by shouts:--"Don't jump!... Don't come in
here, muddle-head!"--remained glaring above us--all shining eyes, gleaming
fangs, tumbled hair; resembling an amazed and half-witted fiend gloating
over the extraordinary agitation of the damned. The boatswain adjured
us to "bear a hand," and a rope descended. We made things fast to it and
they went up spinning, never to be seen by man again. A rage to fling
things overboard possessed us. We worked fiercely, cutting our hands and
speaking brutally to one another. Jimmy kept up a distracting row; he
screamed piercingly, without drawing breath, like a tortured woman; he
banged with hands and feet. The agony of his fear wrung our hearts so
terribly that we longed to abandon him, to get out of that place deep as
a well and swaying like a tree, to get out of his hearing, back on the
poop where we could wait passively for death in incomparable repose. We
shouted to him to "shut up, for God's sake." He redoubled his cries.
He must have fancied we could not hear him. Probably he heard his own
clamour but faintly. We could picture him crouching on the edge of the
upper b